Elevator
by streetofdreamsx
Summary: John got married and that became a problem... apparently. Randy tries to solve it.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **I wrote this in 2009 and posted it on LiveJournal back in the day. I hadn't looked at it ever again but I figured I'd correct some bits, add some stuff and post it here as well. My first and only slash fiction so far, as usual criticism is more than welcome. Also, mentions of Cody Rhodes/Ted DiBiase.  
**Warnings:** M/M sex, nothing too explicit or hardcore but if you don't approve this, you probably shouldn't read.  
**Disclaimer: **This is purely fictional and I don't own anything.

* * *

After another Monday Night Raw and the usual "nice job, Randy" or "you did great, Orton", the dishes are done. Back in the locker room, the only person still there was Randy. Prior to a quick shower, he made sure his clothes looked flawless and suited his body perfectly and sprayed his cologne on himself causing the smell to invade the place. When he had completed all the usual rituals before getting out in public, the wrestler still took a moment to look in the mirror and throughly inspect every inch of his own self.

Always the last one to leave, that was Randy and of course, after a while of bitching and moaning to themselves, Ted and Cody got tired of waiting for him, sitting on those very uncomfortable benches, and left to wait outside the arena.

When Randy was sure to have all his stuff with him and done with admiring himself, he nodded a little to himself and left to go meet with the guys, hoping they would both be still dressed once he found them because it wouldn't be the first time he had walked on them having their "fun" in some rental car. A flashback of images of that moment in his head made Randy draw a slight smirk on his face. 'Fuckers really can't control themselves,' Orton shook his head from side to side, letting a small chuckle escape his lips. As he stepped outside and discried his car, he was happy to realize they were both dressed though with a very annoyed look on their faces.

"Why do you always have to take so long, princess?" Cody rolled his eyes, complaining as soon as Randy entered the car.

Randy motioned for him to get on the back seat because there was no way he would be driving his precious Hummer. In fact, why did Cody even had his keys, he questinoned himself, thinking that giving him the keys had been a moment of insanity, probably to get him to shut up about them wanting to leave.

"Shut up, Codes. Maybe if you took care of your looks half of what I take care of mine, you would be getting some." Randy started the car after Cody took his seat in the back and leaned forward to share an accomplice look with Ted, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Trust me, I'm getting _plenty_…" Cody shot over to the older man, softly caressing Ted's cheek with his index finger, causing Randy to roll his eyes and shake his head from side to side. The usual fluffy, romantic, sweet stuff between those two, he thought.

Randy tried to focus his sight on the road but Ted and Cody kept talking about him like he was not there.

"He's just like this because his precious Cena doesn't care about him anymore." Ted told Cody, using a girly voice as he mentioned "precious Cena", continuing "which reminds me: Randy, we have to go over to the hotel before we go out. Someone else is coming with us."

The plan was just to go out to some random club, maybe more than one throughout the night. But no plans where made about "someone else" going with them and he hated when the boys decided to make those kind of plans without him. They knew exactly how much of a bad mood he had been lately and now he decided to mix with someone else? Trying to keep his cool, he asked "Who's coming?" hoping the answer would not be what he thought it would.

"John Cena." Cody laughed out, picturing Randy's reaction hearing the name.

The answer was _exactly_ what he thought it would be but he didn't give him the pleasure. He kept the wave of curse words and violence to himself. What would he say to that? Are they out of their mind? Does he still want to go? Does John know he'll be there? "Alright." He answered as blandly as he could, giving a quick shrug and staying focused on the road.

It wasn't alright. Really, _not_ alright. The fact that Ted and Cody invited someone else without asking him was just a tiny detail. How could Randy face John? Not that they hadn't been together - it was work, they were together every day, but since he got married to Liz everything changed. The talk is strictly professional. The looks are just the necessary. If they could go a day without talking to each other, it would be great. Apparently. For Randy it was torture, pure hell. Specially now, that their feud was back on. Touching Cena, feeling his breath against his body, their sweat mixing, their faces brushing in every promo. _Torture_ was an understatement.

John seemed to be taking it well. Maybe it was the marriage. Everything was still so fresh, so new and exciting. He didn't have a honeymoon so every minute counts to be with Liz, to talk about Liz and that drove Randy crazy. Sure, he could pretend he wasn't listening but he was. Oh boy, he was. So well, that he could almost hear what Liz was saying on the other enf of the phone. At first, the younger man thought it didn't have to change a thing. He got married and it was just fine for both of them. Booty calls at any time, whenever they felt like that. Then, John started talking about how getting married meant things needed to "get serious". That was the line for Randy to step away. If only he had understood that John meant it. He thought he was just saying because supposedly that's what people do when they are in a serious relationship.

Since Randy wouldn't back off, John did it himself. And nothing hurt Randy more than that, knowing he wanted him but just couldn't do anything about it because "that's the right thing to do".

Replaying in his head the last time they had passed by each other not longer than one hour ago at backstage, Orton let out a sigh. Cena looked at him in a glance and when their eyes locked, sparkles almost flew, right before the older man stared at the floor, without enouncing a word. Almost like they didn't know each other and they were in a crowded street, everyone in a fast pace, no one really noticing each other.

* * *

Back at the hotel and after Cody asking Randy more than ten times if he really was okay with John going out with them, they waited down in the lobby.

"Cody, call him already. I'm not gonna waste my night waiting for him." Randy whined, leaning against the glass doors. The term "waste" was not accurate. Never anything to do with John was a waste.

Cody did as he was told but no response from the other side. Randy opened his mouth but before he could yell, Cody explained that he was not picking up.

'Just great' Randy thought to himself, eager about what to say to the man once they were in the same car, the same closed space, with no running away chances. Out of boredom, he looked at his cell phone to see the time and back at the elevator - still no sign of Cena.

Ted poked Cody's arm with his elbow, causing the younger man to look at him. "Watch." Motioning towards Randy, he shot the question "hey, why don't you go up there to bring him?"

Randy lift up his eyes, previously locked on a spot on the floor and eyed Ted like he was crazy. "You fucking crazy? I barely talk to the man these days, let alone be in a tiny space like an elevator. Alone. With him." He slowly replied to his own question. "Oh…" a smirk became a full smile as he got the picture. Without adding anything else and while Ted congratulated himself about being a damn genius, Orton moved towards the elevator to get his best friend.

'Maybe tonight it all goes back to normal' happiness was back in his thoughts and he tried to wipe the smile off his face. John could not see him vulnerable or notice he was hurt. No, that was not _his_ Randy. He'd put on a front and act confident like he always did, around everyone.

On the right floor, Randy knocked at John's door, not before straightening his shirt, running his fingers against his face, licking his lips. When Cena came to the door, Randy swallowed his own smile. The older man looked flawless. His eyes bluer than usual, his dimples showing off more than usual and his shirt tighter than usual, showing his amazingly defined pecs. _Perfect_, more than usual.

Both men didn't move for a moment.

John was obviously surprised to see Randy standing there. Randy didn't know if he should shake his hand, hug him or kiss him. A kiss was definitely a no-no. A hug would seem like they hadn't seen each other for a long time. The handshake would seem so impersonal.

"Hey…" John waved his hand in front of Randy, trying to call him back from whichever planet he was roaming around. "You busy thinking about yesterday or you gonna let me out?"

Randy quickly moved from the front of the door, giving the man some space to get out.

He closed the door behind him and moved towards the elevator, leaving an imaginary trail of perfume.

Randy followed him right away, thinking why he had to come off stupid, right in the first twenty seconds he had John in front of him. He had never blocked like that, not with a woman, not with a man. Why now?

In the elevator, he only wished John would look at him to let him know they're okay. Just a look, it was all he needed. But he wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't take the chance to talk to him. They were just there. Alone. There was no running away. Besides, how could someone _not_ want him? He was every girl's wet dream, women would pay God knows how much to be with him or even just for a minute of his attention. Randy cleared his throat and hoped the words would come out this time. "You know, the elevator shouldn't be the only thing going down right now." The corner of his lips headed up, forming a smirk. A smirk that could drive John crazy and they both knew it.

Bad things ran through John's mind, hearing that and seeing that face. _The_ face. Things he wanted to do to Randy, things he wanted Randy to do to him.

After all, the flame hadn't extinguished.

"You disgust me, Orton." He didn't. In fact, nothing about Randy disgusted him. Nothing. Not a god damn thing.

Both men looked up, focusing on the numbers getting lit up above the door, though getting out of that elevator was the last thing on their minds.

Randy could only picture so perfectly John pushing him against the elevator door, removing his shirt so gently, moving down as his eyes locked on Randy's, his precious dimples appearing on John's face as he kissed his hip lines. Orton couldn't help it, there was no way those images would only stay in his imagination: his hand flew to the stop button, pressing it firmly and before John had time to complain, Randy was all over him.

He gently nuzzled his face on the older man's neck, releasing his hot breathe onto his skin inbetween light kisses and his erection rubbed on John's leg. "Sooner or later, here or in my room, you are going to surrender," Randy purred on John's ear, with the tip of his tongue slightly touching the earlobe. So full of himself, so confident, so 'viper' like. "Baby," the word kills John, who involuntarily tilted his head back, hearing Randy's words being whispered so full of passion and want.

The Legacy leader could feel John's member getting hard and that was the green light he needed to get everything he wanted. Placing his hand on John's neck, he made him turn his head and dragged his tongue up slowly, unable to wipe his smile off his face. "Does Liz get you hard just with her voice like I do?"

John was so caught up in the moment that he couldn't even open his eyes, let alone think about Liz. His wife. _Wife_. But they had to stop. Why had Randy to be so fucking inviting?

Randy kept pulling and biting on John's soft skin while his hand roamed along the older man's chest, abs and finally crotch where only the fabric of his boxers and jeans kept them separate.

John's mouth hung open, soft groans escaping his lips where Randy's were trapped now. Teasing and taunting, Randy's lips seemed softer than ever. Softer than Liz's, that was for sure. Beautiful, delicious lips that man had.

"Baby, you should know by now that I always get what I want."

How could that jerk seem so seductive to Cena? And how the fuck could he do that without caring or even thinking about Sam?

"Randy. Stop. We have -" his words were absorbed by Randy's tongue that invaded his mouth without any notice. John didn't want him to stop and they both knew it.

All that Randy could hear was John's groans. The little manwhore couldn't stop now that he knew John was absolutely dying to be owned by him. Every little part of him was Randy's and they both knew it.

"You're all mine, Cena. _Mine_." Randy's lips formed a grin while John gave in at last and let his hand break into Randy's briefs.

"I fucking hate you." Cena muttered against Randy's lips as he planted a deep kiss, their tongue's exploring every part of one another's mouth.

Not even one thought of Liz was in John's mind. Only the image of Randy's perfect tanned skin, his perfect blue eyes nearly not opening, his perfect large hands touching his bulge with rough and tight grips. Perfect, everything perfect.

Before they knew it, John had given in and was on his knees in front of the other man, his hands resting on his thighs. When John's lips touched Randy's cock, even so softly, was enough for him to let out a moan. "I fucking hate you too."

Cena worked him up like nobody else. They knew each other switches so well, they could please each other in so many ways but it didn't seem to be enough for John, not in the way Randy saw it. No, he had to go and get married, ruining whatever they had going almost since they met.

'The only pose you're gonna be doing tonight is laying on your back, in that ring, with me, on top.' Were the words John kept playing in his head, over and over. The words Randy spoke for the world to hear on that backstage interview. Little everyone knew that was so true. More than once in that exact same night. More times than both man could count throughout the years.

The only thing that could be heard on that elevator was Randy's heavy breathing as John sucked on his hard member, making beautiful slurping sounds and letting the first man know he was giving all he got.

With his head tilted back, Randy's hand flew to the back of John's head, pushing him down. "Take it all in that beautiful mouth, baby."

The motivation Cena needed, the word 'baby' pulled the trigger once again, causing him to deep throat and stroke Randy's cock frantically.

Driving himself into John's mouth, Orton knew it would be over soon. The way the other man's mouth worked him seemed like a dream, too good to last.

"Yeah, fuck! Fuck, John!" the moans washed away all the guilt Cena was feeling.

"Fuck Randy, why do you have to taste this good?" John asked helplessly, more to himself than to the other man.

Randy simply smirked down at him and raised his eyebrow, giving John his cockiest look.

A vibration came from John's pants. Literally. The sound against the fabric didn't make him stop but it made Randy wonder, "who the fuck is it?" Without having to look at the screen, John remembered they had Cody and Ted waiting for them.

The older man hesitated and the grip around Randy's dick became loose, causing Randy to narrow his eyes at John. "Give me that shit and don't you dare stopping!" Randy threatened him, pulling the phone from his hand to pick it up.

At Ted's name on the flashing screen, Orton thought to himself, 'Fucker always ruins it' but he took a breath before pressing the button to make sure he wouldn't say it out loud. "What?" he almost shouted in anger, an anger that was made disappear by John as he swallowed him again.

He continued to move his head, movements that are followed by his hand at the same pace, distracting Randy who tried to excuse himself, after Ted asked if they'd still be long. "We're… aaah! Coming!... To meet you guys." He pressed the button to end the call as his body tensed up, almost squashing the phone.

His warm fluid was shot down John's throat between his last words to Ted and his body relaxed, so much that he could just drop right there on the floor, with John wrapped in his arms.

The gorgeous dimples appeared on John's face again in a contagious smile. 'Gorgeous smile' Randy couldn't help but think to himself as he started to pull himself together, buckling his pants and trying to keep his lasting hard on hidden.

Both men couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces, satisfaction mirrored all over.

John pressed the button for the first floor to finally meet up with Randy's fanboys.

Like it wasn't enough for him, Randy placed his arm around John and pulled him in, their faces almost brushing. "This was nowhere near to what I'm gonna to you in my room later on. We're not over." He bit on his lower lip, making the older man lick his lips slightly, being teased that way.

Even though John didn't say he accepted the invitation, Randy knew, Randy was _sure_, he would go crawling, pleading, begging to feel Randy owning him once again.

When the doors opened they where in opposite corners of the elevator, making it seem like nothing had happened. Like they could fool Ted and Cody for a second. They start chuckling sensing the tension going on the elevator and Ted landed his hand on Cody's shoulder, "they so did it" he mouthed.

Getting out of the elevator, Randy reminds John once again, "not over, Cena. It never is."

Randy Orton always gets want he wants.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **Since I had a few requests to continue this and I actually had a few ideas for a second chapter, here it is! This time the story really is complete. Again, this was my first time writing more explicit stuff and feedback/advice will be very welcome, be it in form of reviews or PM's. :)  
**Warnings:** M/M sex and if you don't approve this, you probably shouldn't read.  
**Disclaimer: **This is purely fictional and I don't own anything.

* * *

Only a few steps in the club were enough for Cena to realize that fun wouldn't be the adjective for to characterize his night. Randy's ego didn't seem to leave room for anyone other than himself but his bragging about every and any thing seemed to only be relevant to John, seeing how Cody and Ted were so committed to only paying attention to each other.

The group quickly found a table somewhat hidden from the crowd and took their seats, John as far away from Randy as possible, in a clear attempt to hear from him the least possible. Cena had enough of Randy boasting about how he had once again gotten him to give in. Indubitably, Randy knew how much he hated to have that kind of stuff put on blast, so he was obviously going to do exactly that. As their drinks arrived and Ted and Cody took a break from each other, Randy decided to torture him again. 'Of course, it's funnier with a crowd behind you' John thought to himself with a roll of his eyes even before hearing what Randy had to say.

"You know, John, I'd say that that 90 percent of the women on this earth would give a hand to be stuck in an elevator with me…" Randy smirked proudly after something that felt to John like a slap to the face. "Oh wait… You also gave me an hand." He added, like a punch to the stomach as the two other boys both giggled.

Fantastic, not only had Orton taken the night to pick on him but he also had his two fanboys there to applaud his every step. "Fuck you, Orton." John said coolly, not looking away from his bottle. He knew his incredible cool in every occasion always pissed Randy off and, at that point, that was really the only thing he could do in response.

"Oh," Ted blurted out, glancing between John and Randy with a grin. "Could it be that John Cena is getting ticked?"

"Fuck both of you too." Cena spat out, pointing his finger at Ted and Cody as he moved his hand to grab the bottle, wrinkling his nose in disgust upon seeing their attitude. "Stop getting behind your little friend." He let out in a lower voice, right before the cold glass touched his lips.

"Yeah, guys." Randy firmly stated, with a face as serious as possible, much to John's surprise. "John's the only guy who can get behind me." The usual conceited appeared on his face with a cocked eyebrow to match, shattering John's hopes about the man finally leaving him alone for the night. Randy wanted to stop, he genuinely did, but John was making it so easy for him to give in temptation and be an obnoxious prick – he couldn't help it.

Shaking his head from side to side, John ran his fingertips against his forehead, rubbing it heedlessly. For the umpteenth time that night, he asked himself what he was doing with them or why he had agreed to go out with the man he had been trying to avoid for so long. His thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of his name being called out again. 'Oh god…' the man cringed and closed his eyes shut.

Squeezing himself between Ted and John, was Randy, throwing his arm over the older man and leaning in to speak closer to his ear but yet loudly enough for both the other men to hear. "Remember that time in the VIP room of this club?" The tone in Randy's voice seemed to carry not only a provocation but also an adulatory hint to himself. "It was hard for you to keep quiet and we almost got caught… Remember? You kept telling me to go harder and –"

"Yes." John cut him off, with a serious and annoyed tone to his voice. "I fucking remember." He paused. "Someone clearly isn't familiar with the 'a gentleman doesn't tell' concept."

"Well," Randy's reply started, mockingly, "you should know by know that I can't be a gentleman when it comes to you. After all, you like it when I make you my bitch."

If his eyes could shoot fire, Randy would have been burned alive right there. John didn't say anything in response but Randy would dare going any further, John pushed himself up out of his seat and walked around the table with quick and determined steps, not interested in glancing at any of the men again. "You disgust me, Orton." He sighed, uncertain that the man had even heard his tirade.

Randy quickly showed him he had a different thought, getting up after the man and outstretching his arm to put it in front of his large body. "Yeah, I know. You told me that earlier already... right before my dick was down your throat." He chuckled before shaking his head off and continuing. "Calm down, man. I'm just messing with you." He smirked, looking in John's blue eyes. Grabbing his glass, he put it in front of John, rocking it slightly and causing him to turn his attention to it. "Now, sit down and have a few more drinks."

Careless of what Orton had to say, John took another step forward before the other wrestler's arm kept him still. John pushed his body forward yet another time in an effort to make his friend move out of the way but Randy narrowed his eyes at him. "Relax." He roughly pushed his arm over John's chest and with the movement, a step back from him, followed by his glass overflowing and the beverage ending up splashed all over John's shirt.

"Now I really can't stay looking, like this, can I?" An honest smile appeared on John's face for the first time that night, knowing it would at last grant him an excuse to leave the club and get rid of Randy.

* * *

With hasty and large steps, The Viper made his way through the corridor to John's room, fully prepared to apologize to him and make sure they were in good terms despite John's apparent desinterest in being in _any_ terms with him. That night had gotten out of control in just a few short hours and, once the older man left, Orton caught himself thinking about what he had said and how offensive it might have sounded in John's ears. Truth was, Randy Orton didn't like to lose in any field – be it in the ring, in a simple random bet with his friends or in a struggle with himself – and he had committed himself to making peace with his friend. When he saw that was not happening, he became a sarcastic, bitter character, ready to torment his friend.

"Oh."

"What a warm welcome." Randy spat out upon hearing the man's response after his knock at the door, still planted at the entrance as John turned his back on him, returning to his place on the bed. The Missouri native exhaled deeply, running his fingertips along his jaw, still awaiting for permission from his best friend to walk in. Though those words never came, he still took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him as he justified his presence there. "Listen, I just wanted to apologize –"

"It's cool. Not like I was crazy about that shirt." John interrupted him with a careless shrug to follow. The stained shirt had already been removed, tossed inside of the dirty clothes' bag and stored inside of one of his bags. Randy didn't need to know but the spilled drink was the best thing that happened that night, seeing how he finally got to go back to his room where he wouldn't be made fun of.

Shaking his head from side to side, a chuckle escaping his lips, Orton truly thought his friend was joking. Even so, he explained himself. "No… apologize for calling you bitch, for telling the guys about our, ahem, sex fests. For making fun of you… I was being a dick." He nodded his head, chewing on his bottom lip, almost embarrassed with his behaviour. What he thought would be funny had soon shifted to something malicious and it he had only noticed it when John started losing it, which was something extremely rare.

"You _are_ a dick." John scoffed under his breath, positive that the other man didn't hear it. "It's all good." Regardless of the night's events, he wasn't one to hold grudges, especially when it came to Randy.

Attached to the man's response, a wide and bright smile finally appeared on both men's faces. After a moment of hesitation, Randy took a seat next to Cena, on the bed, much more up tight than the older man whose body lied completely stretched on the mattress and one of his hands under his head while the other tightly gripped the remote.

Randy's blue eyes wandered through his best friend's body while he seemed to be too committed to finding something good on tv: it was funny how he could look at the older man pretty much every day of his life and most times almost ignore how attractive his features were, like how he chewed down on his lip when he was fully focused on something and his dimples appeared on his cheeks, or standing in the same ring as he did without feeling the insane urge to touch him.

"Dude, why are you staring at me like that?" Cena glared at him by the corner of his eyes, without moving.

"Oh, I was just…" daydreaming about the perfect man lying down next to him, almost fantasising about undressing him right there and then? Sure, but Randy certainly couldn't tell him that. "I was thinking about our OVW days, when we shared a room every time." It was the best excuse he could think of and it was convincing enough, judging by the smile blooming on Cena's face.

Their story went way back – they had met when they started wrestling and, since then, they hadn't left each other's side. Almost instantly, they became best friends and shared their lives with one another, even before developing more profound feelings or accepting that their chemistry went beyond their wrestling matches. Up until then, they had been as tight as they come as though John seemed to be doing all that he could to bring an end to it, Randy wanted to keep at least their friendship.

Letting out a laugh, the older man turned his face to look at Randy, at last loosening the grip from the remote. "You mean when we got drunk every night and we'd wake up barely able to move, listen to any sound or look at the light? Yeah, those were the days." He added ironically.

"I still am like that," a smirk appeared on Randy's face as he shook his head "except not every night. And not with you anymore..."

Almost in a jump out of the bed top his feet, John seemed to mirror the other man's smile. "Well," he stepped towards one of the corners of the room, where a few bags rested. After shoving his hand inside of them, he pulled a couple of Jack Daniel's bottles. "Time to change that."

"Why did you –"

"Oh, please. Did you really think I'd be up in my room alone and with no drinks?" John curled the corner of his lip up, shrugging his shoulder as he did. He had accurately predicted that nothing good would be on tv and he surely would need something to make his night easier, more tolerable.

Randy's movements followed John's, as rapidly as the other man had previously done. With an headshake of approval, he stuck his lower lip out and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels, well aware of how much his friend liked that drink. 'This will do' the Viper thought to himself, moving past the idea of the beverage not being his favorite. 'It'll be worth it in no time,' he smiled to himself, quickly opening the bottle.

Returned to his laying down position, John had replaced the remote by the glass and his attention was again on the tv. This surely wasn't like the "old" days – he remembered playing every kind of drinking games with his friend until one of them gave up or passed out and now they both looked like middle age men, appreciating a fine drink. The only thing missing on the picture was a cigar. John's lips parted to bring Randy back to earth, but before he could, the other man – who seemed to have been reading his thoughts – spoke first.

"Remember the first time we decided to have sex?"

Both men shared a laugh at the sudden brought back memory; they remembered that night ever so clearly – they had been to a club, picked up some girls and brought them up to their shared room. What had everything to be a night of debauchery turned into their girls throwing up left and right and asking for how long they had been a couple, because they apparently had "an insane chemistry" and the girls thought they just wanted to do something different that night.

"To this day," John paused to shake his head from side to side, "I don't know what they meant."

"I fucking don't either!" Randy laughed. "I guess they thought we went both ways and wanted girls for a change… I really have no clue."

That night, after they had a good laugh about the girls saying they had chemistry, a few more drinks were downed and soon, _they_ were admitting how hard it was to keep their touching limited to their matches.

"I don't think I even knew my name that night, let alone what I was doing." The older man defended himself, still with his dimples laying on his cheeks.

Randy took a sip out of his drink. "I did." Another sip. "I wasn't that drunk." Another sip, while John looked at him clueless. He had never admitted it and, for a while, he even denied to have any memories of the night, but Orton knew fine well what he was doing with his friend that night – he had imagined how it would be for quite a while, almost planning it in his head, though he had no hopes of it_ actually_ happening. And he remembered every single thing from that whole night: the hotel and number of the room, what they were wearing, the feeling of John's lips for the first time, how they felt all over his skin, his smell, the sounds he made…

While Randy digressed in his head, John had taken quite a few more sips, straight out of the bottle, and was no longer able to get mad at the younger man. Nothing from Randy was surprising to him, not even this. He always found it strange how Randy pushed him to repeat the experience, when he "remembered nothing". It had all became clear with Randy's confession.

"Why did we even get like this?" a voice came from within John, his words being calmly pronounced. At times like these, when he shared a good time with his friend, he had a hard time remembering why he wanted to push him out of his life or seeing any sense in avoiding him; they had been through so much together, good and bad, it was difficult for John to understand why he had to be so extreme in order to protect himself and his marriage.

Landing his large hand on the man's shoulder, Randy sighed. "It doesn't have to be like this." He repeated what he had told him earlier and a few other times before that. He acknowledged that they were in marriages now but it was impossible to ignore their attraction to one another. And after all, they were friends. _Best friends_. They couldn't stay out of one another's lives.

As Randy's hand travelled down his arm, John stared at his hand, reminiscing all of the times his hands had been on his body, in and out of the ring. That man had a way to touch him – it was something so different that not even his wife could come close to feeling like and the simple thought of feeling that man touch him again all over his body, was making it hard to function and this was exactly why he had to be extreme about Randy... Everything about him was just too tempting.

It could be the drinks, or at least John decided to think so, but it was hard to disagree with Randy. It didn't have to be like that. He wasn't in a relationship with him or anything of those sorts… they just had fun. And it was quite probable that he wouldn't even want remember anything the next morning.

A big smile returned to John's face as he adopted his friend's excuse and Randy seemed to mirror that smile right before slowly sliding his tongue between his lips to lick them almost in slow motion. Orton had seen that smile before and he knew what it meant so, as the other man remained laying down on the bed, he moved on top of him to straddle his hips and press his plum lips to Cena's, fitting perfectly as always.

Randy pulled his head back and the corner of his lips headed up, forming a smirk. He was sure those few drinks would suffice to get John to stop over thinking, he just knew it. That's why he drank it like it was his favourite drink – he was already anticipating how at ease John would feel and that was enough to get him to do anything. He would have drank gasoline if that's what it took.

"What?" a faint voice escaped John's mouth almost in a whimper as his hands were wondering up and down his best friend's back, while the other man had a smile plastered on his face.

Shaking his thoughts out of his head and stopping congratulating himself, he pecked his lips a couple of times more, very lightly, before answering. "Nothing. I just missed you."

Before he could say anything in response, John's smile did all the talking, a smile that was quickly replaced by a slightly open mouth as Orton attacked his neck, first with tiny, wet kisses and then with a few harder bites at the skin. At the feeling of Randy's lips at the pulse on his neck, a very soft groan left his mouth, almost in anticipation of what was to come. John was more impatient than ever, after depriving himself of Orton for so long and only getting a taste earlier. Literally, _a taste_.

Randy continued to work his way around John's neck, now kissing up his throat and jaw, only stopping when he reached his lips for another deep and passionate kiss. As their tongues met in a duel to show one another who wanted it more, Randy's hands found their way under the older man's shirt, caressing his abs whereas John's gently gripped at Randy's hips, right before he slid his fingers under the waistband of his briefs.

"Someone's eager." Randy gave John his most teasing smirk after he slowly broke the kiss.

"You've teased me all night…"

"I know. I drove you crazy, didn't I, baby?" Randy hissed in his deep, sultry voice, getting an instant nod from John; it was obviously a rhetorical question, they both knew it. Orton knew him well – he knew what to do and the exact words to say to tease him and that's what he intended with the mentions of their previous encounters at the club. "But you're only getting it when I say so." His blue eyes looked deep into the other man's as he pushed John's hands from his waist.

This was probably going to be the hardest thing Randy had ever done but he was ready to tease his favorite boy until they both couldn't stand it. John was clueless to what was on the Viper's head but he was in no position to argue or ask any questions. All the surprises from Randy were always welcome.

Randy pried his upper body from Cena's and tugged on the edge of his own shirt, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor aimlessly. He ran his hand up and down his body, almost as if he was admiring himself. At the glance of John's infatuated face, Orton almost chuckled: he saw him shirtless every day and yet, a little flaunting in that moment was enough to send him over the edge. "Baby," Orton licked his lips as he felt John's bulge under him, snaking his hand down his abs and lightly squeezing through the fabric of John's jeans. "I get you hard just by showing off? Wow…"

"Come on, Randy." John sighed exasperated, trying hard not to make any appreciatory sound to give Randy the satisfaction.

At his plead, Randy removed his hand from the man and the smirk came back to his face. He motioned his index finger towards John's torso, reminding him to remove the shirt. He watched the man oblige quickly and, after he got on his feet, he gave him one last order: "Get on your hands and knees, baby."

John nodded and got on his knees on the mattress, spinning around on them and before completing the task, he took another big gulp out of his drink. Once he placed the bottle down on the bedside table, his hands flew to his waist to unbutton his jeans – until Randy's hand appeared on top of his.

"Did I tell you to do that?"

John's face revealed surprise, hearing the man's words – it wasn't usual for Randy to be _this_ bossy and dominant but, for once, he chose not to contradict him. So, with a nod, he propped himself on his hands, finally assuming his position.

Hopping on the bed behind him, Orton placed his hands on John's shoulders, rubbing them gently before very lightly running two of his fingers down the man's spine. Without making him wait any longer – but still seemingly taking _years_ in his every move – Randy pulled his shorts down, followed by his boxers and dropping both of them on the floor, where his own shirt already lied. He stared at his friend's naked body for a moment and that was enough to make him want to drop all the taunting he meant to do. But not yet: Randy took a deep breath and gripped on his hips tightly, pulling him closer in.

Cena was sure Randy wanted him to bed and plead and that was exactly why he wouldn't make a noise. One thing he couldn't stand was to stroke Orton's ego and if that meant biting is lip not to make any noise, that was hat he was going to do. However, when Randy wrapped his wet hand around his manhood and began to stroke it, it couldn't be helped – John let out a visceral groan through his lips.

That sound alone was enough for Randy's throbbing erection become hard to ignore so, as he pumped his hand up and down John's shaft, he used his free hand the best as he could to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pulling them down along with his briefs and exposing his member. He teased John a bit more, building up the speed of his pumps on the other man.

As the sounds of John's heavy breathing grew into louder noises, Randy suddenly let go off his hardness. "You're not coming yet, baby." He leaned down to whisper in his friend's ear, pressing his erection against the man's bare rear end and the skin of his torso rubbing against John's muscular back. Straightening his back again, Randy ran his hands down Cena's sides, stopping at his ass cheeks and spreading them with a smirk appearing on his lips – just looking at his hole, Randy could remember clearly how he felt and it seemed to make him grow more eager but still, they would both wait a bit longer.

John mumbled something under his breath – something that after a while Randy could decode as being "Please, Randy". However, a whisper wasn't enough for Randy and he was ready to make Cena beg out loud. With a nod to himself, the man grabbed a hold of his erection and very slowly rubbed it between John's cheeks and against the tight hole, forcing the head of his cock against it for a moment but stopping at Cena's first whimper. "Not yet."

"What the fuck, man?" John shouted angrily with a turn of his head to look at the man. Who the fuck did that man think he was, how dare he make him wait like that?

Randy didn't say anything but a bashful smile glowed all over his face. He licked his index finger as John still started at him, making sure he knew what was about to happen and making an effort to make John grow even more anxious. As soon as John looked forward again, Randy slowly pushed his wet finger inside of the man's hole, feeling it pulsate around his finger. "Baby, you're so tight," Orton spoke in a low voice again as he forced his finger in and out of John, "but when I'm done with you, you won't be anymore."

"Please, Randy…" John whispered between soft groans, burying his face on the pillow. It was so hard for him to take it – the teasing, the anticipation, the dirty talk…

"What's that?"

"Fuck! Please, oh God…" John moaned out as Randy pushed another finger inside of him, right before pulling them out. Fine, if he had to beg to finally get him, then so be it. Orton knew him so well and he knew he could keep the teasing going to even longer if John didn't utter the exact words he wanted to hear. "Fuck me, Randy."

"That was exactly what I wanted." Randy mutered. He reached his hand to grab the bottle of Jack and take a few sips. Before he placed it down again, upon looking at John's naked body, Randy poured the liquor down the man's body, letting it drip down between his hole and cheeks. Again after rubbing himself against him and let the drink coat his cock, he finally guided himself inside of John.

In sync moans began to flood the room upon Randy's first slow movements – they had done it so many times, they were used to each other's feel so much but they weren't prepared in the last. Randy thought he remembered how good John felt but it was impossible to be prepared for that feeling. It was more than good and before they could realize it, Randy's thrusts became faster and John was driving his hips back and forth to match the other man's movements, causing their bodies to clash loudly. The sweat dripped down both man's muscular bodies, glistening as they continued to move at an increasingly fast pace.

Randy crawled his hand down to reach for John's hard member and stroke it at the same fast pace of his drives. As he seemed to go deeper inside of John, the younger man bit down on his lip and closed his eyes, taking in John's feel around him and the sounds he was making. Randy himself seemed to be having an hard enough time keeping quiet and his grunts became louder as his thrusts became harder, coordinated with the motions of his hand around John's hard cock.

The intensity of John's groans, heavier breathing and panting along with the frantic movements to keep up with Randy's, made it clear that he was approaching his climax so Orton slowed down with a smirk appearing on his face as John opened his mouth speak. "Don't you fucking stop, Orton."

Randy stared at him with his cocky grin even if the other man wasn't looking at him and he shook his head from side to side before he began to build up the pace again, forcefully driving himself into him. "You always come crawling back…" He whispered to himself, tilting his head back.

Faster than they both realized, their movements became rapid again and Randy could no longer control his hips and fist that seemed to be taking a life of their own, going at full speed. They knew they couldn't hold back much longer when John's hole clenched around Randy's throbbing erection as a sharp moan from him echoed around the room. Randy found himself trying to go deeper inside of them man, burying himself completely in him and twisting his hand around the other man's member at the same time, only stopping when John's body tensed up at his release.

Shortly after and after a few "Oh, fuck!" cries from Randy, he unloaded his warm fluid inside of John and came to a stop, planting a few kisses down his friends back before pulling out from inside of him and letting his body fall on the bed, next to the other man.

John rested laying on his back and turned his face to look at the man next to him. Not even if he tried, there was no way he could ever forget that night, no matter how many drinks he took before or how many he would take afterwards. Now, every time he caught a glimpse of a Jack Daniel's bottle, he would feel Randy pouring it down on him right before feeling him inside of him and giving him the best night of his life. It had been over only a few seconds, but the thought of that was enough to turn him on again.

He was desperately looking for words but no words were needed – it was written all over his face how mind blowing it had been, Randy was sure of that. Orton turned on his side to rest his palm against John's cheek, caressing with his thumb. Randy had a plan all along and though a few changes were needed, he once again got what he desired and made his point very clear. "I hope this goes to show you that no matter how hard you try, you always come back to me, baby."


End file.
